


Teufelspakt

by jisoopremacist



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-11-29 07:02:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11435628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jisoopremacist/pseuds/jisoopremacist
Summary: In which love is trounced by the grandiose ambition that is rampant among young ladies.The story takes place in a fictional location in Europe, and our heroine is Roseanne.Main chaesoo with jenlisa and chaelisa.





	1. Prologue & I

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks in advance for reading!

❧

## Prologue

Jennie had long established herself as one of the most exceptional artistic talents of the Principality of Hymnia ever since her prodigiously skillful oil on canvas L’Enfer at the youthful age of sixteen stunned the whole of the Principality. In five years she had already risen to the rank of peerage with a marquessate in her own right, and was styled Marchioness of Corland. Furthermore, soon after the coronation of the young Princess Jisoo at the age of twenty-one, Jennie was handpicked by Jisoo to be Her Highness’s Peintre Royale.

Countess Lisa of Nomnia was Jennie’s closest confidante at Her Highness’s court, for, as the Countess of Nomnia was only one year younger than the Marchioness of Corland, they so naturally talked, flirted, and exchanged all types of gossip that appealed to young ladies of patrician society, and their visits to each other were frequent and intimate.

“Jennie unnie,” Lisa said to Jennie one day while visiting her, “I have just discovered something that will intrigue you for sure.”

“Do speak,” Jennie replied.

“I saw a girl today, who also paints as you do, and she showed me a painting of hers. I cannot describe it to you, but you definitely should see it for yourself.”

“Really? Is it very great?”

“Oh, yes, tremendously so. But words won’t do. You need to see it with your own eyes.”

“What is it about?”

“She didn’t named it yet, but I noted a remarkable resemblance—in fact, I think the whole of it, on some level, struck me as a continuation of some type, to your magnum opus L’Enfer.”

“Is that so…” Jennie was indeed intrigued, “Well, there’s no harm in paying a visit to a young lady painter. I presume you know where I can find her?”

“You presume right. I have her address here,” Lisa said, and pulled out a note for Jennie as she spoke, “I asked her for it and said, ‘You can expect Her Highness’s Peintre Royale to call on you tomorrow.’ It’s convenient that she lives right here in your marquessate Corland, near the countryside.”

Jennie looked at the note Lisa handed to her, pondered for a moment, and asked, “What’s her name?”

“Roseanne.”

❧

## I

～✻  _[Du unterzeichnest dich mit einem Tröpfchen Blut.](https://de.wikisource.org/wiki/Seite:Faust_I_\(Goethe\)_108.jpg) _ ✻～

In a small cottage on a grassy hill with a sinuous trail leading down to the bustle of the great town of Corland that housed the seat of Her Highness the Princess’s government of the Principality of Hymnia, Roseanne stood in front of her easel, looking attentively at the large, splendid, and sublime oil on canvas that she had spent four years of her life crafting, polishing, and perfecting.

It was the heart and soul of her pride.

Yet, for the past year, she had been trying to sell it to a patron, but few had been willing to pay more than a few pennies for it. Most simply walked away shaking their head after a moment of glancing through the painting.

Roseanne stood there, staring into the easel, lost in thought.

_I pray, night and day, that in the end all my efforts are not wasted._

Every morning, Roseanne would go to a hectic street in town, always noisy during the day with church bells and town criers, where she kept a craftsman’s house atop a workshop. As she was the only painter not in the guild who could do a decent job creating decorative work for the lords’ and the ladies’ entertainments and displays, she was able to sustain herself tolerably well. The only downside was that the quotidian paintings ridden with superficial charms that her patrons always ordered were detestable to her bones. Roseanne deeply resented the idea of creating something to suit the unrefined taste of someone who did not possess any appreciation for art, yet she was impelled to do the type of work which she thus resented, merely so that she could live. It was an inextricable feeling of sorrow that perennially hung over her heart.

Next door to Roseanne’s workshop was an apothecary’s shop, from where she bought all her pigments. The owner of the apothecary’s shop was Mina, who happened to be of the same age as Roseanne. Thus, a natural affinity between the two girls spontaneously developed over the years, and, as Roseanne focused mostly on her work both at home and in town, for a large part she relied upon Mina for some bits of news regarding important local events during their chat when she purchased art supplies from Mina or occasionally when she came to and left her workshop every day.

One afternoon, Roseanne was closing the workshop in preparation for the nightly curfew that was to be imposed in a short moment, when a sudden commotion echoed from one end of the street.

“It’s the Princess,” exclaimed Mina, who came out of her shop after hearing the noise.

“Really? How do you know?” Roseanne turned around and looked at her, with an ebullient curiosity in her voice. She had heard about the famed beauty of the new Princess, who succeeded to the crown only one year before, and it was said that every minstrel in Europe came to Corland to admire Her Highness’s beauty, and was thoroughly filled with astonishment the moment they beheld Jisoo in person, and that they sang so many ingeniously crafted lyric poems that every single object in the world had been used in some metaphor to praise Her Highness’s incomparable allure. Such being the case, Roseanne had always secretly longed to see the Princess in person, even though she had never explicitly realized it herself.

“Look at the purple carriage. That’s Her Highness’s coach.”

Roseanne stared into the source of the noise, and discerned the purple coach that Mina was speaking of. Soon the horses drew near, and the figures of the people inside the coach became distinct. Her heart was pounding fast, and, only for a second before the coach drove past Roseanne’s workshop, she caught a glimpse of the beautiful visage that was Princess Jisoo, who was smiling cheerfully, apparently in the middle of a lighthearted conversation with her companion, whom Roseanne knew to be the girl made famous by L’Enfer at sixteen. Her name was Jennie, if Roseanne remembered right.

The purple coach as quickly disappeared at the other end of the street as it quickly came from the one end. Roseanne was still gazing into the already disappeared commotion, and thinking of the already gone Princess and her smile. She then thought of the girl that was with Jisoo, and could not help asking, “Why is that girl—Jennie is her name, I think—riding with Jisoo?”

“What!” Mina was shocked by Roseanne’s words, “It’s not our place to talk of…‘that girl Jennie’ or…‘Jisoo’… Those are Her Highness the Princess and the Most Honorable the Marchioness of Corland to us.”

“Oh…” Roseanne realized her gauche impropriety, and her heart sank a bit.

“And…” Mina calmed herself after seeing Roseanne’s reaction, “as to your question, Lady Corland lives here and owns this town, and Her Ladyship is also Her Highness’s Peintre Royale. So I can only assume it’s unsurprising that Her Ladyship is riding with Her Highness.”

“I see…” Roseanne lowered her head, still thinking about how her referring to the Princess as “Jisoo” and Lady Corland as “Jennie” stunned Mina. “We’re so insignificant to Her Highness, aren’t we… So small, and meaningless.”

Mina heard the acute twinge in her voice, and looked mournfully at Roseanne. “We can’t change anything.”

Roseanne looked up at Mina, and exclaimed, “Why can’t we? Jennie…Lady Corland used to a commoner like you and me… Her Ladyship is only Her Ladyship because she can paint.”

_And I can paint, too…_

“Uh…” Mina gasped at her petulance, “No, Lady Corland did not use to be a commoner like us. Her Ladyship had already been the daughter of a baronet before she was created Marchioness of Corland.”

Roseanne bit her lip, writhing in suppressed despair, and could not speak.

Mina sighed after a moment of silence. “I know you can paint, Rosie. You paint extraordinarily well. But my words will never do. You’d need someone of rank to appreciate you.”

_Is that so… But who could it possibly be…_

“Don’t be upset, now, Rosie,” Mina continued, “We need to shut up the shops now before the curfew.”

At night, Roseanne kneeled before her bed, hands folded, and could hardly suppress her mixed emotions that ensued from all that happened in the afternoon. Amid the keen painfulness that flashed through her heart, the one second that she glimpsed Jisoo in her purple coach kept reemerging. The cherubic smile upon Her Highness’s seraphic face, that fleeted away in the blink of eye, seemed so fugacious, yet so distinct, that Roseanne yearned both to retain forever and to forget right away. She struggled with herself, bitterly and futilely, and the conflict soon turned into an ineffable feeling of hatred toward Jisoo.

_Your Highness, I am but nothing to you, aren’t I, like the dust and soot that a gentle brush of wind would disperse, as if I had never existed in the first place._

The nothingness of it all overwhelmed her, and Roseanne started to sob in intense anguish, roiling in the agonizing thought that something so perfect, so supremely beautiful was yet something so faraway, so unattainable that it all seemed unreal.

_I am as far apart from you as Lucifer is from God._

A sudden dazzling light dawned onto Roseanne’s cottage, the candles in her bedroom flickered, and were quenched, and vapors rose. She looked up from her impious prayer, eyes red and swollen, and saw a human form slowly descending from the bright sky before her.

“An angel…” murmured Roseanne. At once she wiped the tears off her face, and looked intently at the descended being that gleamed with radiance.

“Not quite,” said the female-formed spirit, “I am the Patron Spirit of Hymnia. With pain and despair you have compelled me to appear before you, as I am moved by your suffering, and your flair and striving that are unjustly ignored.”

Roseanne stared at the spirit in a trance, left speechless by awe and dread.

“How far have you wandered, youthful artist?”

“I…I…I only lived in Corland, from this cottage to town…and never farther.”

“Does it not make you wretched, does it not make your heart ache, that your significance is so little, that you are loved by so few?”

“It…It does… It does so much…” Roseanne hung her head in reflection of her misery, and tears soon filled her eyes.

“Then what is it that you most wish for in life?”

“I wish…to be the greatest and most famous artist in all of Europe…”

_And…I wish…to be with Jisoo, to make her mine, and mine only._

“Very well,” the spirit smiled, as if she had heard Roseanne’s unspoken second wish, “I shall make you the greatest painter in Hymnia. You shall be more renowned than even the Marchioness of Corland. You shall bask in glamour and success, and you shall be loved and idolized by all the mortals under the Sun in Hymnia.”

“Really?” Roseanne looked up at the spirit in a thrill, trembling at the notion that she would be thus famed and thus loved.

“Yes, all of it, at only one price: You shall never love anyone. The moment that you start feeling love toward another person shall spell your demise—unless,” the spirit paused for a second, and continued, “you sever the feeling, as quickly as the meteor disappears into the night sky.”

Roseanne was silent after hearing the spirit’s words. She did not know how she might respond to a deal so tempting as the one just offered to her.

“Will I…be more famous than even the Florentine…Michelangelo Buonarroti?” Roseanne asked timidly.

“It shall be in your own hands, whether you will distinguish yourself in Europe outside Hymnia. All of Hymnia is all I can offer you.”

“And…I can make any person in Hymnia fall in love with me?”

“Yes,” the spirit smiled again, “but you shall not love them back.”

Roseanne pondered, calculated, struggled, and remained speechless. After twenty years of coping with the profound conflict between her grandiose dream of fame and the cruel reality of piteous unknownness, the mere thought that she might eventually be celebrated for her artistry across the vast land of Hymnia and perhaps even Europe was already irresistible. The addition that she would be adored and worshipped by everyone in Hymnia, including the beautiful Princess Jisoo, simply made it impossible for her to say no.

_Even though I shall never love you…you shall fall for me, pine for me, and feel the heart-rending pain that I am feeling for you… I shall rejoice in seeing you in my current lowly position, seeing you beg me for my love, as I am doing for yours._

It was the lust for vengeance that possessed every unrequited soul.

“Silent artist, what is your answer?”

“Yes,” slowly and steadily, Roseanne uttered the word, looking firmly into the eyes of the spirit. And her eyes that only moments before were filled with tears were now sparkling with triumph, as if she had already been celebrated as the greatest artist that history had ever seen.

“Very good,” the spirit smiled at Roseanne’s prior chaste and innocent stare that now became mixed with swelling ambition, and gradually ascended into the heavenly light as she spoke, “Bring your proudest work to your shop in town tomorrow, and everything will proceed as you wished.”

The glaring radiance disappeared, the tranquility and darkness of the night restored, and the candles again lit up the bedroom. Roseanne was still kneeling before her bed, her hands folded, as if nothing had changed. She looked around the room, her face felt dry from the tears, and her mind was still trying to make sense of all that had happened just a moment before.

_Was it all…but a dream?_

She trembled at the thought that none of it had in fact happened. She had waited so many years for an opportunity, earthly or otherwise, for her to become recognized, and she could not bear the idea that she had come so close to success merely to see it evaporate in the bliss of a dream. Nevertheless, she managed to convince herself that all of it was true, that she was still sane, and went to sleep after saying a desultory prayer.

The next morning she carried the oil on canvas that had been sitting on the easel in her cottage for a year to her craftsman’s house in town, as the spirit told her, and soon fell into a state of oblivious working in the quotidian noise of church bells and town criers. Everything was still the same. Roseanne was still a nobody, toiling away at some work that she deeply detested.

Suddenly she heard that another patron came into the shop downstairs, and a moment later her apprentice went upstairs and told her that the patron was someone of high importance, so important in fact that she should stop her work at hand and go down to greet them. Roseanne was intrigued as to who it might be, and followed her apprentice downstairs.

“The Right Honorable the Countess of Nomnia,” Lisa’s maid introduced her mistress to Roseanne after seeing her coming downstairs.

“Oh…” Roseanne was quite taken by surprise that a countess would go to a shop in town herself, “Lady Nomnia, what an honor! How may I help Your Ladyship?”

“Nothing much,” Lisa said, and giggled at Roseanne’s cutely amusing mannerisms, “I was just thinking, ‘It would be fun for me to go to town in Corland myself once in a while,’ and so I went. It was indeed really fun, with all the criers and smiths, and I just figured I would go into a shop and do a little shopping myself. I don’t know why, but your little shop here caught my attention, so here I am!”

Roseanne was caught a bit off guard by Lisa’s enthusiastic rambling, and for a second did not know what would be a proper reply.

“Now, let’s see…” Lisa continued herself, “Can you just show me something you think is interesting in your shop here that I can buy?”

“Oh!” Roseanne suddenly remembered the deal she made last night with the spirit, “I do have…a little painting, of which I am rather proud…and which I think would interest Your Ladyship,” her voice quivered as she realized the incredible opportunity that was happening right before her eyes.

“Is that so? Do show it to me now,” Lisa noticed Roseanne’s half-suppressed excitement, but did not think much about it.

“Yes, my lady! Would Your Ladyship care to follow me upstairs?”

“Of course.” And then Lisa followed Roseanne into her craftsman’s house atop the shop, leaving behind her maid and Roseanne’s apprentice.

“This humble painting of mine was completed about a twelvemonth ago, which I hope Your Ladyship will enjoy,” said Roseanne as she put the painting upon the easel.

Lisa looked at the painting, and was immediately drawn to the apparently incompatible colors that were in conflict with each other. “Interesting…” Lisa said, walked nearer the easel, and examined the nuanced mix of thick and thin brushes up close. For a good while Lisa was studying every detail of the oil on canvas intently, and Roseanne waited beside her, anxious to hear her opinion, which she dreaded as much to be the same slighting remark that every single patron of hers had given before as she wished to be an empathetic appreciation.

“Well…” Lisa said after some minutes of scrutiny, “It’s a…truly…marvelous piece of art.”

How relieved was Roseanne to hear, at last, a genuine compliment on her proudest work after receiving one year of thinly veiled insults!

“Thank you…thank you…thank you so much, my lady…” Roseanne exclaimed, her entire body shaking from the flush of emotions that was the result of success after years of hard work and patience. Her heart pounded, her nose twinged, and tears immediately filled her eyes.

“Whoa…” Lisa was amazed by Roseanne’s excessive reaction at a simple praise of hers, “Are you going to cry…”

And tears started streaming down her face the moment she heard the word. “I’m sorry…” murmured Roseanne, sobbing uncontrollably, “I’m so sorry, Your Ladyship… It’s just…just…” She did not know how to describe the intensity of her emotions to a countess.

_You never know the feeling of something finally happening, after working, and waiting, for years…because you never need to work, or wait._

“I’m sorry, Your Ladyship…” Roseanne raised her head to look up at the ceiling, and fanned herself with her hands, trying to stop the tears from slipping down her cheeks, “It’s just that I didn’t expect Your Ladyship to be someone with artistic appreciation.”

“Oh?” Seeing Roseanne had almost stopped sobbing, Lisa raised her eyebrows, mildly displeased by her words.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Roseanne collected herself, and wiped the tears off her face, “It’s just that I’ve painted for many lords and ladies, but not one of them has showed any interest in this painting. And Your Ladyship is the only one who appreciates it.”

“Well,” Lisa smiled, and was contented by Roseanne’s clarification, “a close friend of mine also paints, and does so exceptionally well. So it’s natural that I should appreciate a work most people don’t.”

“Now,” not waiting for Roseanne’s reply to her self-congratulatory explanation, Lisa turned her attention back to the painting before her, “speaking of that friend of mine, this oil on canvas actually reminded me very much of one of her paintings.”

“Really?” Hearing Lisa’s descriptions thus far, Roseanne had already formed an idea of who that friend and what that painting might be, “Might I ask who and which painting You Ladyship is referring to?”

“It’s L’Enfer by the Marchioness of Corland.”

“Indeed…” It was exactly as she expected. “I think I may have been quite influenced by Lady Corland’s magnificent piece while I was working on this painting.”

“I see,” Lisa turned and looked at Roseanne, “You look very young for such a gifted painter. I’m curious. How old are you, if you don’t mind?”

“Of course not, Your Ladyship. I’m twenty.”

“Twenty precisely?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Wow,” Lisa paused for a second, looking rather admiringly at Roseanne, “It’s almost difficult to believe that someone my own age is such an accomplished artist.”

“Not really, my lady,” Roseanne blushed, “Your Ladyship has accomplished far more than I could ever hope to.”

Lisa smiled, and gave no reply.

“I don’t want to just buy this,” Lisa said after a moment of reflection, “because I think Lady Corland will want to see you and your painting in person. May I have your address?”

“Ah, of course, Your Ladyship,” exclaimed Roseanne, who immediately went to her desk and wrote the direction to her cottage down on a note. “Here, my lady.”

Lisa took the note Roseanne handed to her, and asked, “And your name is?”

“Roseanne, my lady.”

“Very well. Be there tomorrow with the painting, Miss Roseanne, and you can expect Her Highness’s Peintre Royale to call on you then.”


	2. II

❧

## II

～✻  _[On l’aime, on le hait, et on brûle de l’avoir.](https://fr.wikisource.org/wiki/Les_Grenouilles_\(trad._Eug%C3%A8ne_Talbot\)#342) _ ✻～

“Forgive me,” Roseanne kneeled before her bed at night, and whispered, “Dear God, forgive my sinfulness. And bless me now, for the opportunity which I am to receive tomorrow. Let Her Highness’s Peintre Royale discern the sublime in my humble work, which I created to celebrate Thy glory. Please! Je T’implore.”

After a moment of silence, Roseanne quietly stood up. The afternoon before again flashed through her mind, when Jisoo’s blithe, smiling face caught her so defenseless, that in the mere twinkling of an eye Jisoo had intruded her heart, so rude and impudent, in total disregard of how she had suffer since.

_Smiling Princess, how lowly was my love for you… How I long to see your smile again, and how I long to possess you._

The next morning Lisa called on Roseanne at her cottage.

“Lady Nomnia,” Roseanne curtsied upon seeing Lisa.

“It’s a fine, little cottage that you have here, Miss Roseanne,” Lisa said as she walked into the passage, “Clearly you are quite meticulous as to its decoration and maintenance.”

Even though her cottage was not large or sumptuous at all, Roseanne had indeed always been careful to keep it nice and clean, and she had decorated it here and there with whatever suited her fancy, and thus created a cozy home for her that was hers only. “Thank you, Your Ladyship,” Roseanne replied shyly.

Lisa looked at Roseanne, and was amused by her amiable bashfulness.

“Now, Lady Corland will join us in a moment,” said Lisa as she walked into the parlor, and noticed Roseanne’s drawings which hung around the room, “but let’s first hear all the stories of these charming drawings that you have up here. They’re magnificent! You truly are an artist of the rarest kind.”

“Your Ladyship is making me blush…”

Lisa smiled at Roseanne’s reddened cheeks, and could not help thinking her uncommonly lovable.

“Call me Lisa from now on,” Lisa said, after adoring Roseanne’s cuteness for a good moment.

“Oh…I daren’t, Your Ladyship.”

“Well,” Lisa gave a sly grin, and a sudden desire to tease Roseanne came to her mind, “you can—and should—call me Lisa, if you marry me.”

Roseanne gaped at Lisa in utter astonishment upon hearing what she said. Her eyes and mouth were wide open, she was absolutely without words, and her entire brain was in a state of complete mess, unable to make sense of Lisa’s shocking request. It was the first time that someone ever proposed to her, yet it was nothing like the romantic, beautiful moment that she had imagined and anticipated so much.

Lisa could not stop giggling at Roseanne’s silly face, finding her cuter than ever, and continued to tease, “Well? What do you say?”

“…Do…Does Your Ladyship realize…” Roseanne was finally collecting herself a bit from the shock, but her entire body was still shaking as she spoke, “…what you are asking of me?”

“Of course I do. I’m asking the honor of your hand in matrimony, Miss Roseanne.”

“Oh, really?” Suddenly a voice came from outside. Instantly Lisa’s expression changed from airy and complacent to stunned and terrified, like a girl caught doing mischief by her father.

The speaker walked through the passage into the parlor, and Roseanne immediately recognized her to be Lady Corland.

“Well, well,” Jennie spoke with clenched teeth and a twisted grin, “Miss Roseanne…your genius is indeed admirable.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, Lady Corland… I’m so terribly sorry…” Seeing Lisa’s petrified state, Roseanne realized how exceedingly inappropriate what had just happened was, and was herself terrified that Jennie would disdain and loathe her and that her chance to recognition would thus vanish.

“I…I was just teasing her, Jennie unnie,” exclaimed Lisa, recovering herself, “I’m certainly not going to marry her.”

“Are you not, indeed?” Jennie glared at Lisa, ”Miss Roseanne, I am sure, would have rejected you right away, had I not intruded upon you, as any lady of delicacy would do to such a frivolous proposal.”

“Uh…umm…yes, Your Ladyship…is quite right…” Roseanne muttered, her cheeks burning like a hot flame.

“You see, Lisa,” Jennie smirked in complacency, “you’d congratulate yourself to marry someone as lovely and as talented as Miss Roseanne. You will never marry her because you are not good enough for her.”

Roseanne’s face became redder and redder, from both Jennie’s apparent compliment and the earlier incident, and she wanted to say something, but knew not how.

“You’re right…Jennie unnie… I’m sorry,” murmured Lisa in dismay. Even though she had had the complete expectation that Roseanne would reject her, she was still hurt hearing Jennie disparage her thus.

Jennie was satisfied by the result of her preliminary punishment for Lisa, and turned toward Roseanne. “I do admire you, Miss Roseanne. Such a pretty cottage, well maintained and beautifully decorated, and this parlor especially, with such a harmonious collection of exquisite drawings around the room. Everything here is a true reflection of your delicate character and refined taste.”

“Oh! Thank you…thank you so much, Your Ladyship,” Roseanne timidly replied, her heart pounding fast at Jennie’s praise.

“Now, Lady Nomnia here—whose character is no doubt familiar to you by now—told me about the grand painting of yours. Would you care to show it to me?”

“Ah…certainly, my lady! I put it in the drawing room. Would Your Ladyship follow me in there?” Roseanne replied, her heart still pulsing heavily, as she walked into the drawing room.

“Be careful,” Jennie glared at Lisa and whispered, before following Roseanne into the drawing room. Lisa was crestfallen from all that had happened, and quietly followed the two.

Jennie was impressed by Roseanne’s oil painting, so much so in fact, that she had declared it worthy of being permanently fixed at Cathédrale de Corland, where Jennie’s L’Enfer was housed, and where Jisoo had been coronated Princess of Hymnia a year before.

“You didn’t name it yet, I heard?” Jennie asked Roseanne.

“No, my lady. I haven’t quite come across a suitable one.”

“I feel the sublime beauty in this work, so much so that one name has been screaming in my mind ever since I saw it.”

“Really, Your Ladyship?”

“Yes. Le Purgatoire.”

“Oh!” Roseanne and Lisa exclaimed at the same time. The two words struck both as so befitting, so accurate, that Roseanne was unsure as to why such an obvious choice never came to her mind, and that Lisa was unsure as to why such an obvious choice never came to Roseanne’s mind.

“I take it that you both concur it should be Le Purgatoire? It’s settled then,” Jennie smiled in satisfaction, “I will discuss with Her Highness about properly fixing your work at Cathédrale.”

“Oh… Thank you, Your Ladyship… Thank you so much…for everything… Thank you…” Roseanne was so relieved by Jennie’s pledge, her body started trembling again, and tears soon filled her eyes.

As if she had foreseen Roseanne’s such reaction, Lisa rolled her eyes, shook her head, and silently mouthed to Jennie, “So sensitive.”

Jennie, on the other hand, did not expect Roseanne to be so easily touched, and for a second did not know what to do. But upon seeing that she was apparently trying hard to hold back the tears and to appear bright, Jennie declared, “Well, Lady Nomnia and I shall leave you be now. Expect Her Highness to send for you soon.” And with a gesture to Lisa, Jennie left the drawing room and exited the cottage through the passage.

“Cheer up now, Rosie,” with a wink Lisa said softly, before following Jennie out of the cottage.

Roseanne’s eyes followed the two ladies, and, seeing them both away, she at last bursted into tears. “Thank you…God, and thank you…Lady Corland…and Lady Nomnia,” she looked up in tears at her oil on canvas Le Purgatoire as she whispered her gratitude, and then sobbed on in the drawing room for half an hour in great joy.

_At last…my Princess…I shall see you soon._

“Jennie unnie…don’t be mad at me now… I’ve said I’m sorry,” Lisa looked at Jennie and pouted, as the two walked outside toward their coaches.

Jennie only snorted at Lisa, and did not want to say anything.

“Come on…unnie…” Lisa grabbed Jennie’s arm and pleaded.

“I’ll deal with you later. Right now I got to go to Her Highness’s palace,” Jennie scolded as she stopped at the door of her coach and rid her arm of Lisa’s hands, and then stepped into her coach.

Jennie arrived at Jisoo’s palace, and was ushered to the west drawing room to wait for Jisoo. Then Jisoo was informed that the Marchioness of Corland had arrived, and that Her Highness’s presence was requested.

“Your Highness,” Jennie curtsied as Jisoo entered the drawing room.

“What’s up, Jennie?” exclaimed Jisoo as she saw Jennie.

“I discovered a forgotten prodigy painter.”

“Really? More prodigious than you, my Peintre Royale?” Jisoo asked with great interest.

Jennie smiled in pain, unsure how to respond to the question she had been trying to avoid.

“What happened?” Jisoo seemed to realize Jennie’s thought, and so sat down on a couch, ready to hear the details.

Jennie recounted the story.

“So, indeed, in my Principality there is such unrecognized talent,” Jisoo remarked after hearing Jennie’s account, “What a great shame.”

“Your Highness is quite right,” Jennie replied with composure, “which is why I believe Miss Roseanne’s great work Le Purgatoire deserves a permanent place at Cathédrale de Corland, so that it’s at last celebrated equally as, if not more than, my humble work L’Enfer.”

“I trust your judgment, Jennie, but I’d like to see this girl and her work first.”

“Of course, Your Highness. I should think she’s expecting your call at this very moment.”

“Very well. I’ll send for her tomorrow then.”

“Your Highness is wise,” said Jennie as she stood up and curtsied, preparing to leave.

“Jennie,” exclaimed Jisoo when Jennie was making her way to the door.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Jennie stopped her steps and turned back for a moment.

“Don’t be upset.”

Jennie forced a painful smile, and left the drawing room.

The next morning Jisoo’s butler called upon Roseanne to invite her to Jisoo’s palace. “Her Highness is waiting for you at the royal palace, Miss Roseanne. Would you care to follow me to Her Highness’s coach?”

“Oh…” Roseanne replied in a thrill, and followed the order. “Thank you!”

_How my heart trembled…the moment I heard that you are waiting for me, my Princess._

_In the twenty years of my humble life, at last, riding inside your purple coach, in which you rode with, talked with, and laughed with your Peintre Royale, I shall witness the wonder and the glory that is Your Highness’s royal palace._

_My Princess, I shall possess you._

Roseanne alighted from the purple coach at the gate of Jisoo’s palace, and took into view the fine scenery of the royal garden, where some hundreds of square yards of luxuriant shrubs glistened with morning dew. Behind the garden is the grand palace, and, as she walked up to it, immersing herself in the clear, crisp air of early summer, Roseanne felt a strange sense of familiarity, as if she were finally at the place where she belonged. At last she stepped into the palace, and was a little surprised that she was not as nervous as she had always imagined stepping into the royal palace would make her.

“Care to follow me, Miss Roseanne?” Jisoo’s first footman greeted her upon her entry, “Her Highness has been waiting for you in the west drawing room.”

“Thank you!” Roseanne replied in great composure. She was quite contented that she was able to control herself so well in such an intimidating setting. And to think that in just a moment she would see Jisoo, her beguiling visage, and her alluring smile, Roseanne was all thrill and anticipation.

“Miss Roseanne,” announced the first footman with a bow as he entered the drawing room.

“Your Highness,” Roseanne came into the room with a curtsy, and immediately caught sight of Jisoo, who smiled sweetly at the bashful girl before her. For a split second Roseanne’s heart skipped a beat, but at once she noticed the presence of Jennie and Lisa, both sitting across from Jisoo, and with vastly different expressions on their faces: Lisa was grinning cheerfully at her, adoring her cuteness as always, while Jennie was looking intently at her, as if she had many words to say to her, but could not.

“Ah, Lady Corland, Lady Nomnia,” exclaimed Roseanne as she bobbed a curtsy to Jennie and Lisa as well, “I apologize…I didn’t quite know that both Your Ladyships were here as well.”

“Never mind us, Rosie,” Lisa giggled as she spoke, “We’re just here to have fun and watch.”

Jennie glared at Lisa, but did not contradict her.

“Now, Miss Roseanne,” Jisoo opened her mouth, still smiling brightly. And, hearing Jisoo speak for the very first time, Roseanne could not help but was instantly mesmerized by the angelic voice that was so softly speaking to her. “Please, be seated. Here, beside me, if you want.” And Jisoo made a gesture to invite Roseanne to sit next to her, across from Jennie and Lisa.

Roseanne was so astonished by Jisoo’s request, and so thrilled at the prospect of being close to Jisoo, that her throat felt astoundingly dry when she opened her mouth trying to say something. She could not believe that the beautiful Jisoo, who had tormented her in every single one of her dreams ever since that afternoon when she first caught a glimpse of her smile, was actually sitting in front of her, smiling to her, and asking her to sit next to her. The sudden, unexpected realization of the splendid dream that she had been having dumbfounded her, and she gasped dryly, and involuntarily quivered.

“Rosie is…” Lisa noted the sign that Roseanne was about to break down in tears, “…very sensitive, Your Highness. You’re overwhelming her now.”

“Oh?” Jisoo was a little surprised by Lisa’s words, and decided to help the trembling girl calm down. She stood up, walked to Roseanne, and held onto Roseanne’s arm. “Come on, now,” she whispered, and helped Roseanne walk back to the couch.

Roseanne felt a surge of electric sensation the moment Jisoo gently held onto her and whispered in her ear, and gazed down at Jisoo’s flawless side profile that was with an intent expression, as Jisoo slowly moved herself toward the center of the room. For only a second Jisoo turned her head slightly toward Roseanne’s face, caught her careful, attentive stare, and gave a smile, so pure and untarnished, that at that instant time seemed to have frozen for Roseanne, and everything seemed to have blurred, except the smile of the girl before her, and her heartbeat that was steady and distinct. It was at that instant that Roseanne realized, how helplessly in love she had always been with Jisoo, and how helplessly happy she was when Jisoo held her arm and walked quietly with her in that way. Immediately afterward she was frightened, and recalled the promise she had made to the spirit, that she would never love anyone, and that the moment that she loved anyone would spell her demise.

_Oh, how foolish was I not to realize the ardent, fiery power of love…_

_But…I must be strong…and not forget why I chose this path._

Jisoo sat her down beside herself, and noticed Roseanne’s expression that had greatly changed. “Something wrong?” Jisoo asked concernedly.

“Oh, no, Your Highness…” with great pain Roseanne reminded herself that she should control herself, “It’s just that…meeting Your Highness is such a great honor of mine.”

“That’s all right,” Jisoo smiled, and with both her hands held onto Roseanne’s hands, “Don’t think too much about it.”

“Thank you, Your Highness…” replied Roseanne timidly, and, feeling Jisoo’s warm and smooth palms and seeing her smile, bright and sweet as always, she returned a sincere smile at Jisoo.

_Thank you, sincerely, Jisoo unnie…for your warmth and kindness._

“Now, let’s see that oil painting of yours, Le Purgatoire.”

The painting was brought into the drawing room, and Jisoo was, like Jennie, immediately possessed by the sublime feeling that emanated from the painting.

“It’s simply marvelous! I agree with Jennie that it should be housed at Cathédrale. And it will be,” Jisoo pledged upon examining the painting for a moment, and then turned toward Roseanne, “And you, Miss Roseanne, with such talent that is so far unrecognized, should deserve a position at my court. I do have a dukedom vacant. Do you fancy a duchy of your own, Miss Roseanne?”

Roseanne, Jennie, and Lisa all stared at Jisoo in stunned disbelief, upon hearing her magnanimous offer of an entire dukedom to Roseanne. Jennie especially was struggling to believe what she just heard.

“Is Your Highness serious!” Roseanne jumped up in extreme excitation, and was ready to faint at any moment.

“I am, indeed,” Jisoo smiled after scanning each of the three girls’ expression, “But before I create you a duchess, I’d like to see your talent in action—You’ll paint me something first.”

“Oh! Of course, Your Highness! I’ll readily paint anything Your Highness wishes!” Roseanne’s voice trembled with thrill, and tears filled her eyes again.

“Good,” Jisoo grinned as an idea formed in her head, “You’ll paint a portrait of me. And if you do a fine job, I’ll create you Duchess of Lacuria.”


	3. III

❧

## III

～✻  _[Per fama huom s’innamora.](https://it.wikisource.org/wiki/Canzoniere_\(Rerum_vulgarium_fragmenta\)/Spirto_gentil,_che_quelle_membra_reggi) _ ✻～

“Doesn’t it make you think, that your Rosie is about to become Your Grace now,” Jennie said slowly while looking intently at a grand oil on canvas that hung in her library. Lisa had just dined with her at her manor in Corland, and they retreated to the library for some tête-à-tête, as they always did when visiting each other.

“She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure she won’t mind my still calling her that,” Lisa replied, standing behind Jennie and staring at her back, and formed an image of what her expression might be like while looking at her painting and speaking slowly like that. “Besides,” she added, “it’s not even final yet. Maybe Jisoo unnie won’t be satisfied with her work and won’t give her the dukedom.”

“Oh, please,” Jennie snickered, “I know Her Highness too well to think that. She’s just enjoying her little dance before devouring her entirely.”

“‘Devouring her’?” Lisa was perplexed.

“…You’ll see.”

Lisa seemed to have understood. “How do you know, then? Did Jisoo unnie devour you as well?”

Jennie replied, after a short pause, “No. I made myself quite clear.”

“Oh!” Lisa was surprised. She pondered Jennie’s last sentence for a moment, and then asked quietly, “…And she still named you her Peintre Royale?”

“She wouldn’t hold it against anyone. She appreciates talent enough—which is the reason she’d give the entire Duchy of Lacuria to your precious Rosie.”

“I see.”

After a moment of deliberation Lisa moved to sit on a couch on Jennie’s side, from where she could command a better view of Jennie’s expression, and noticed she was apparently in deep thought, with an intent stare and some slight twists of muscles. “You’re worried,” said she after studying Jennie’s expression for a moment. “And you’re jealous. You’re jealous of Rosie, her talent, her dukedom, and her imminent replacement of you as Jisoo unnie’s favorite and Hymnia’s greatest artist.”

Jennie was stunned by Lisa’s accusation, and looked at her in wonderment. “You wrong me exceedingly, Lisa. There is nothing I despise more than pettiness. She’s a talented artist and deserves all the acclaim accorded to her. I shall never be jealous of her for that.”

“Say what you want,” replied Lisa with an arch smile, “but you’re not as liberal-minded you fancy yourself to be. You’re jealous of Rosie. I know you are.”

“No,” returned Jennie with a snort, “I’m not. On the contrary, I rather admire her.” And, ignoring Lisa’s tut-tuts at her defense, she added, “She has great ambition, and I admire her for it.”

“You think she’s ambitious? She looks perfectly innocent to me.”

Jennie turned around toward Lisa, and looked at her with a smile. Slowly she walked close to the couch Lisa was sitting on, and stared down on Lisa’s face with a haughty air as she opened her mouth.

“Every young lady who climbs from nobody to this level of fame is _ambitious_ , Lisa.”

“Oh…” Lisa was struck by the solemnity with which Jennie spoke.

Jennie watched with contentment that Lisa was fully absorbed by herself. “Do you know why I paint?” she asked in a gentle voice, with a finger brushing Lisa’s cheek. “Because I crave fame, and glory.”

Lisa heard Jennie’s sudden confession in astonishment.

Jennie slightly bent over Lisa’s head, gazed deeply at her lower face, and whispered in a soft voice, “I crave fame as much as I crave these luscious, naughty lips.” Slowly she leaned forward. “Naughty countess, how dare you propose to another girl?”

Wafts of subtle fragrance rushed into Lisa’s nose, and in a flash she had felt Jennie’s lips pressed against hers, soft and warm. Just as she closed her eyes, feeling dizzy and melting from the tender dream, suddenly Jennie bit down on her lip with such great strength, that she was abruptly woken from the amorous bliss with a loud cry.

“Ouch!” Lisa instinctively recoiled, and, feeling the burning sensation that was the effect of Jennie’s bite, looked at her in shocked disbelief. “What are you doing? It hurts!”

“Does it?” Jennie asked with feigned naïveté while savoring some streaks of blood from Lisa’s lip, “I’m so sorry. Now does that make it hurt less?”

Lisa covered her bleeding lip with her handkerchief, and rolled her eyes when she realized what it was about. “By George! You couldn’t just let it slide, could you.”

Jennie stared at Lisa with an innocent look, and said in a childlike voice, “I merely wish you could feel the way I feel.” And with a smile she added gently, “The wound left by you on my heart won’t disappear until long after your lip has healed.”

“All right!” Lisa gasped in annoyance, and wondered that Jennie could look so ingenuous while uttering a sentence so bleak. “I’m really sorry that I made a frivolous proposal to another girl, and I promise it’ll never happen again. The next time I propose to someone, it’ll be genuine, and not a tease.”

“Good for you,” said Jennie with a smirk as she rose and turned away. “Sleep tight tonight, Lisa.” And with a playful glance at Lisa’s still vexed face she walked away, leaving Lisa to fret and reflect by herself.

After Jennie and Lisa had left Jisoo’s palace earlier in the day, Jisoo asked Roseanne to stay at the palace for luncheon. In the afternoon she played the tourist with Roseanne at her palace, explored with her all the resplendence of the drawing rooms, galleries, libraries, dining halls, etc., etc., and asked her where she would fancy painting the portrait that she had promised. Roseanne was uncertain, feeling surreal from all the marvel, and requested Her Highness’s permission to let her choose a location on the morrow. A day together with Jisoo had driven away most of her shyness before her, and the prospect of becoming a duchess herself demanded a thorough sense of pride and dignity, which, oddly enough, she soon discovered herself quite prepared to undertake. And so when Jisoo again asked her to stay for dinner, in a courtly manner she readily accepted the honor.

“Do you drink at all?” after dinner Jisoo asked Roseanne as she removed the stopper from the crystal decanter and took a whiff of the wine inside.

“On occasion,” replied Roseanne, her hand fiddling with a lock of her hair.

“Is now one of the occasions?” Jisoo glanced at Roseanne with a smile as she poured some wine into a glass.

“It’s hard to tell,” replied Roseanne in a low voice, looking down at the lock of hair that she had been fiddling with.

Jisoo held the glass in her hand, and adored Roseanne’s coyness for a moment, before making another attempt. “It’s been a while since a lovely young lady drank with me. Would you pay me the compliment?”

“Of course, if Your Highness wishes,” said Roseanne with a stately smile as she looked up and accepted the glass from Jisoo’s hand.

Another glass of wine was poured. “Shall we drink to your great accomplishment?”

After a light clink of the glasses Roseanne took a sip of the wine. She never liked to drink, always finding it too bitter, but did drink from time to time anyway because it is what sophisticated ladies do. This time the wine, however, bitter as it always tasted to her, had an aftertaste so sweet that she felt it strangely apropos.

_I will come to hate you so bitterly, Jisoo unnie, for I cannot love you sweetly._

She felt an acute twinge, as she glanced at Jisoo, who was staring keenly at herself while sipping her wine. Under the light of the chandeliers every curve of the Princess’s face gleamed with elegant luster, so ethereally beautiful, that she found herself driven near madness.

_I don’t know what to do…two states of mind in me simultaneously… I yearn to hate, yet I continue to love._

“What’s wrong?” Jisoo asked gently, seeing her convulsed with pain.

“Nothing. I’m sorry, Your Highness,” Roseanne shook her head, and restored a cheerful look.

“Don’t apologize,” said Jisoo as she ran her hand through Roseanne’s glossy her hair, and gazed at her with intense affection. “I just hate to see you unhappy. You’re too precious.”

Roseanne blushed, and trembled.

_Do you not know, that your gaze could kill, that I am a sinner the moment I catch it?_

Roseanne fiddled with her glass, and asked in a low voice, “Does Your Highness say this to all the ladies of your court?”

Jisoo smiled. “Not all. Just the ones as adorable as you.”

Roseanne became flustered, and returned a coy smile. “Don’t trifle with me… I don’t deserve it from Your Highness.”

“You’re special for me,” Jisoo smirked in satisfaction, her hand stroking the curve of Roseanne’s ~~[pokable](https://twitter.com/rose970211_com/status/882957024127995904)~~ cheek. “Because you create beauty,” she whispered, her finger holding up Roseann’s chin, and she leaned close, “beauty that lasts for millennia.”

Roseanne wanted to evade, but her heart felt a rush of helplessness. Before she could feel the struggle, the beautiful face of the Princess was dimmed and drowned to nothingness, and she already felt two warm lips brushing against her own, in sweet and tender movements, sending wild tremors along her spine, soothing her every helpless attempt at reason and resistance.

_I wish to stop, yet I can’t wake up from this dream…_

Jisoo’s lips evoked from her the powerful sensations which she had never known she was capable of feeling, and before a giddiness blurred her awareness completely, she realized that she had started kissing her back. It was soft at first, but with a swift move at once it turned fiery.

_…But…I must._

Amid her short breath and glazed sight she felt an urgent sense of terror suddenly pulling her from the blurry giddiness. Almost instinctively she forced herself to stop, turning her face and pushing Jisoo away. Her heart palpitated, her brain felt dizzy, and her eyes flinched and dared not see what Jisoo's expression might be. Was she stunned? Was she hurt? A thousand guesses fleeted through her mind, but she simply could not lift her head and look at Jisoo's face.

_I’m sorry… I promised myself that I should rejoice in seeing you suffer…but I daren’t now, for I’m afraid I will hurt._

“I admire you,” she heard Jisoo speak, in a voice steadier and calmer than ever. “You’re the first girl to reject me.”

Roseanne closed her eyes as tears were beginning to show themselves. Her nerves were badly agitated, and she could not utter a word.

“Never mind,” said Jisoo as she stood up. “A lady’s maid will come and show you the grand guest room in a moment.” She made her way to the door. “Good night, Miss Roseanne.”

After Jisoo had left, at last Roseanne started sobbing uncontrollably, her hands covered her eyes, and her heart sunk to the bottom of despair.

_I’m sorry, Jisoo unnie…but I must be strong, for I will lose everything if I’m not._

She did not feel better the next morning when she awoke, but again silently repeated to herself to be strong. She met Jisoo at the luncheon room for breakfast, and Jisoo gave her a smile when she came in, as bright and as sweet as always. She wanted to yell at Jisoo, to stop smiling like that every time she saw her, for her heart always helplessly trembled whenever she saw her smile.

“I hope you’ll honor your words and determine a location today,” said Jisoo after Roseanne sat down at the table, as if no bad memory were ever made the night before.

“Certainly, Your Highness,” replied Roseanne with a cheerful tone, and played along with grown-up composure.

After breakfast was finished, Jisoo’s butler walked in with an announcement. “Your Highness, the Countess of Nomnia is in the west drawing room.”

Jisoo promised to be there in a moment.

“Uh, Her Ladyship asked for Miss Roseanne, Your Highness.”

“Oh?” Jisoo and Roseanne were both a bit surprised. “All right, I’ll leave that to you, then,” said Jisoo with a teasing look at Roseanne as she stood up and left the room.

“Lady Nomnia,” Roseanne curtsied into the drawing room and saw Lisa seated on a couch.

“Please, don’t say Lady Nomnia or Your Ladyship now,” said Lisa as she gestured Roseanne to the couch across from her. “Just call me Lisa.”

“Oh, I…”

“Don’t say you daren’t, Rosie,” Lisa interrupted her automatic refusal to her request. “How about this, then: You don’t call me Your Ladyship now and when you’re a duchess I won’t call you Your Grace.”

“I don’t know…” Roseanne hesitated at the thought. She had long had the secret dream of grandiose nobility, and she could hardly deny that a large part of the allure was the dignified form of address which she would receive if she were a member of aristocracy.

“Because you and I ought to be friends,” Lisa exclaimed as she moved to sit next to Roseanne, and held onto Roseanne’s hands.

“Ought we?” Roseanne was surprised, and in such close proximity she could not help but notice the injury on Lisa’s lip. “—What happened to your lip?” She could not contain her curiosity.

“Oy, this is exactly why we should be friends,” Lisa sighed in exasperation. “It was Jennie unnie through and through—she bullies me, you see!”

“My imagination is running wild…” Roseanne raised the corners of her mouth as she realized what might have happened.

“You see, Jennie unnie bullies me, and I bet Jisoo unnie bullies you as well, doesn’t she.”

“What!” Roseanne exclaimed in astonishment. “How…How did you know…” She blushed as she thought of the night before, with Jisoo’s flirtatious lips and the abruptly quenched passion.

“Oh,” Lisa was pleasantly surprised, and leered at Roseanne with a snicker, “so indeed she already started bullying you?”

“I…I’m not sure…” her cheeks became redder when she realized she had accidentally given away too much information.

“You see my point now,” cried Lisa, “You and I should stick together, and not let unnies bully us let that.”

“…How are we going to manage that?”

“Well, I don’t have any ideas right now…” Lisa looked up in reflection, “…but I should think we gals sticking together could definitely help curb our unnies’ bullying.”

“Okay…” Roseanne said, and with great suspicion tentatively accepted Lisa’s alliance. “Hope you’re right…”

“Great,” Lisa chuckled. “So call me Lisa now.”

“All right…Lisa.”

“Good, Rosie,” Lisa smiled slyly. “Now tell me how did Jisoo unnie bully you.”

Roseanne rolled her eyes at Lisa in disbelief, and decided to take a stand for herself. “You should tell me first what happened between Lady Corland—I mean, Jennie unnie—and you.”

“Fair enough. She was still mad at me for…you know…proposing to you, and so she pretended to kiss but instead bit my lip,” Lisa rapidly finished her story. “Your turn now.”

“Fine,” Roseanne sighed, exceedingly unused to sharing intimate details, but decided to try anyway, for she was somewhat unconsciously influenced by Lisa’s sanguine enthusiasm. “She…flirted with me…and kissed me.”

Lisa stared at Roseanne in anticipation for more, but realized that was all. “That’s it?” she could not hide the disappointment in her voice. “Oy, you call that bullying?”

“I don’t, indeed!” exclaimed Roseanne, and she blushed again seeing that the first time she shared something intimate proved a disappointment.

“All right, my bad,” Lisa softened her voice when she realized that she had forgotten about Roseanne’s sensitivity. “But you don’t feel comfortable about it?”

“I…I really don’t know,” replied Roseanne in a low voice as she lowered her head in deep thought.

“What’s the matter?” Lisa asked gently, putting a hand on Roseanne’s hair and stroking it slightly. “You don’t like the Princess? Or…do you already have someone?” The idea that Roseanne might have a girlfriend already suddenly struck Lisa. “Ah, I should have seen this coming. You’re such a lovable, precious girl. It should be a wonder if you don’t have someone already.”

“Oh, no, indeed, I don’t. You flatter me, Lisa,” Roseanne clarified immediately. “And I don’t dislike Jisoo unnie at all…”

_In fact, I’m afraid…that I love her…that I love her more than is good for me._

“Then what’s wrong?” Lisa asked concernedly.

Roseanne shook her head, and only said quietly, “Nothing. It just…felt wrong.”

“Well, I understand,” Lisa did not suspect her words. “But perhaps you need to let yourself go once in a while.”

Roseanne looked at Lisa in astonishment, and wondered precisely what she meant by that.

“Best of luck to you,” chucked Lisa as she gave Roseanne a playful wink.

“Thanks…” murmured Roseanne. She never believed in luck, and always found the phrase a bit irksome, but she could not really blame Lisa for her ultimately kind intentions.

“So,” Lisa felt like changing the subject, “what you’ve got to do today?”

“Oh,” Roseanne immediately collected herself from her reflection, “mainly to determine the location where Jisoo unnie’s portrait will be painted.”

“Why, I could help with that!” exclaimed Lisa. “I’m no stranger to the palace and the garden.”

“Well…” Roseanne hesitated as she tried to come up with a polite reason that Lisa should not accompany her. When it came to creating art, she did not fancy at all other people’s interference. She wanted to make every decision fully by herself from start to finish, so that whatever magnificent piece of art was produced, it belonged entirely to herself.

“Don’t well me, Rosie. Now let’s go,” cried Lisa as she dragged Roseanne out of the drawing room.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
